You're a rabid Anti-Dentite!

When our congressmen take a break from important issues such as "do baseball players use steroids?", "is the sky blue?" and "our asses from a hole in the ground" they discuss slightly less important issues such as, I don't know, say The War in Iraq aka Operation Iraqi Freedom™. One of the big little issues recently has been prisoner abuse at Guantanamo Bay, or "Gitmo" - which is what President Cletus calls it because he isn't smart enough to say words with more than two syllables (sometimes three if he feels like a "big boy"). People are debating whether our methods are humane, and some say it is straight-up torture. Despite receiving "two kinds of fruit" with every meal, the detainees are said to be the victims of all kinds of nastiness that the rest of the world doesn't appreciate.

I'm not going to say whether I support or oppose what we are doing in Guantanamo. My opinion is no more important than that of UN General Assembly President Jean Ping. I will say that I've come up with a new interrogation method that is sure to make everybody happy. It allows for the physical and psychological torture desired by the right, while still embracing lollipops and rainbows as requested by the left. My solution can be summed up in two words: Dental Hygienist.

I made my realization while staring at one of the jagged metal hooks my hygienist uses to clean my teeth. Mind you, I was examining the hook up close as she jabbed my gums with the metal spike on the opposite end of the tool. Imagine if you will, leading a detainee down a long dark hallway, into a blindingly bright room with a single chair in the middle. Then, strapping the inmate down and beginning a thorough dental cleaning.

If you didn't tell that person they were receiving something millions of Americans wish they could get, they would assume it was torture. Horrible metallic weapons being pressed into the teeth and gums. The bright light right in your face. The rancid chemicals they force you to rinse your mouth with. I'd rather rat out all my friends than be subject to that. And they are trapped in the desert for most of their lives with no cleaning supplies at all. Any poking and prodding would be a million times worse than what I feel with my pearly whites.

And on top of the physical assault is the psychological abuse. I'd rather hunt down and kill Osama myself than answer the dreaded "Have you been flossing?" question. And lesser men have cracked under the pressure of trying to hold a conversation with your mouth open and somebody else's hands obstructing any means of vocalization. Truly, an uninformed visit to the hygienist can destroy even the strongest of men.

Eventually, some reporter would catch wind of it and tell the world (before disappearing during a visit to an army base). Then the hippies would be swarming to those human rights violations like...hippies to human rights violations. Kind of drew a blank there, but it works. Then, the folks in charge would just need to say "Sorry hippies, we were just providing them with the care and comfort they need. It's not our fault they started confessing the locations of all their spider holes while being cleaned." Case closed. Go back to Burning Man, hippies.

So as you can see, I've got it all worked out. I expect a letter from the government requesting permission to use my unique methods any day now. And don't get me wrong, my dental hygienist is awesome. But I can't help but feel a little abused when she stick a spike in my gums then tells me they're bleeding because I don't floss.

Damn it, I should have used moths to a flame...